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111 ust potions  by 

•IJ9AMV6H- 

Vepses  by 

Amy  Ella  Blan chard. 


COPYRIGHTED   BY  WOHTH1NGTDN   CO.  747  BROADWAY  N 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


Education 


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Louise  Farrow  Barr 


Im/sfRfrf ed  By 


VeRses  By 

my  d)Ik  Blandhari 


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WoRjHinIgTonI  (o.  |^Jew/oRK 


(bpyrigKfl890  by  Wording Toq  (b- 


NEW  YORK- 


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Education 

GIFT 


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156 

mam 


1 


"See   F)ow  Strong   I  flM." 


S\0  strong  are  you,  my  baby  ? 

I  see  that  very  plain  ; 
For  you  can  hold  above  your  head 
Papa's  big,  heavy  cane. 

Why,  soon  you  can  be  lifting, 
For  your  mamma,  the  chairs  ; 

Or  bringing  heavy  books  to  her, 
Or  helping  her  up-stairs. 


Then  you  can  mail  her  letters, 
And  run  her  errands,  too  ; 

There  is  no  end  of  all  the  things 
My  baby  soon  will  do. 

You  soon  will  be  quite  manly, 
Too  soon,  mamma  thinks,  dear  ; 

For  she  'd  like  to  keep  her  baby 
Many,  many  a  year. 


405 


■4m 


<9AI^E. 


pf[  AMMA  has  gone  for  a  moment, 
And  all  the  world  is  awry, 

For  it  takes  so  very  little 

To  make  this  baby  cry. 


Don't  (©ai^b. 


ZjLL  alone  they  have  left  him 
With  only  tables  and  chairs, 

And  so  he  laughs  and  plays  to  himself, 
And  never  a  bit  he  cares. 


f*  p 


-•>& 


11     *>■ 


w.    **    '         *~*~> 


©wo  Rambl-bss  Kittens. 


STCWO  little  kittens,  quite  aristocratic, 
1      Lived  in  a  rummagy,  cobwebbed  attic. 
They    were    no    commonplace    cats,    if    ycu 

please, 
But  sleek-coated,  fine-furred,  thorough  Malt- 
ese. 
Said  one  to  the  other,  "  It  is  a  shame 
That  we  two  kittens  have  never  a  name. 
We  belong  to  no  one,   none  belongs  to  us, 
Though    I  've    heard    some    call    our    mother 

'  Ma'am   Puss.'  " 
Hark!"  said  the  other,  "here  mother  comes 

now, 
We  '11  both  of  us  set  up  a  dismal  meow. 
If  she  boxes  our  ears,  or  gives  a  cuff, 
Or  asks  if  we  have  n't  had  food  enough, 
We  '11  tell  her  our  grief  is  deeper  than  that, 
We  think  it  a  shame  that  so  proud  a  cat 
Should  have  two  children  with  no  names,  at 

all. 
And   then  we  will  mew  and  cat-er-waul, 
Till  she  tells  us  how  she  came  to  be  named. 
We  will  let  her  know  that  we  feel  ashamed." 
With  a  waving  tail,  and  a  stately  tread, 
In  came  the  mother  cat,  stopped  short,  and 

said, 
;  What   has   happened,   children,   since   I   went 

out? 
What  in  the  world  is  this  fuss   about?" 
1  O,  mother,  mother!    we  cannot   be   blamed; 
Tell  us,  dear  mother,  why  we  are  not  named; 
We  are  so  ashamed,  oh,  what  shall  we  do! 
Meow,    meow  !      O,    dear    mother !      Meow, 

meow  !     Mew,  mew  !  " 


"  Well,"  said  their  mother,  "blood  will  tell,  I  'm 

sure ; 
Such  ambitious   kittens   show   Maltese,  pure. 
Let  me  think,  my  dears,  of  some  right  good 

plan  ; 
Now,  keep  very  still,  for  I  must  and  can.". 
Then,  softly  licking  one  little,  grey  kit, 
By  the  nape  of  the  neck  she  picked  up  it, 
And    marched    off    grandly,    came    back    for 

the  other, 
And  laid  it  down  gently  beside   its  brother, 
On  the  bed  of  her  mistress,  Florence  Flippet, 
One  on  her  muff,  and  one  on  her  tippet, 
Then  sat  down,  placidly  washing  her  face, 
Well   pleased   that  her   kits   were  in   a  good 

place. 
"  I   declare  ! "   said   Florence,  "  what   is   on    my 

bed? 
A  tail — paws — claws — and  a  little  grey  head, 
Two  new  kittens,  as  I  live.     I  declare  ! 
I  wonder  who  on  earth  could  put  them  there. 
Oh,  they  're   yours,  Ma'am    Puss  ;    well,  they 

are  too  sweet. 
I  will  keep  them  both  ;  to  make  them  com- 
plete 
Each  shall  have  a  ribbon,  one  red,  one  blue. 
Indeed,  Ma'am  Puss,  I  'm  much  obliged  to  you. 
They  shall  have  milk  whenever  they  can  sip  it, 
I  '11  call  one  Muff,  and  the  other  one  Tippet." 
Ma'am  Puss  winked  slyly,  not  saying  a  word, 
Rubbed    against     her    mistress,    and     softly 

purred. 
That  is  all  about  it,  for  so,  you  see,  it  came 
These  aristocratic  kittens  each  had   a   name. 


*■! 


#' 


In   (Disghief. 


DOUR  little  kits  in  a  basket, 

O,  the  naughty  kits  ! 
Scattering  the  things  about  the  floor, 
Pulling  them  to  bits. 


One  of  these  frolicsome  kittens  — 

O,  the  naughty  kits  ! 
Has  tried  the  baby's  stocking  on, 

To  see  how  it  fits. 


Here  is  a  ball  of  worsted, 
O,  the  naughty  kits  ! 

It  is  the  very  ball  that  Belle 
Uses  when  she  knits. 


Belle,  meanwhile,  in  the  parlor, 

O,  the  naughty  kits  ! 
Never  dreams  of  this  frolic  ; 

By  the  window  sits. 


There  is  a  ball  in  a  tangle, 

O,  the  naughty  kits  ! 
Here  is  some  silk  all  in  a  snarl, 

There  a  pair  of  mitts. 


When  she  comes  back  and  finds  you, 

O,  you  naughty  kits  ! 
I  've  an  idea  you  '11  be  frightened 

Nearly  out  of  your  wits. 


Grandma's  Baby. 


r^IG,  blue  eyes  and  fuzzy  head, 
Lips  like  cherries,  rosy  red, 
Cunning  feet,  with  wee,  pink  toes, 
Rose-leaf  hands,  and  tiny  nose, 
Dimpled  elbows,  shoulders,  knees, 
Round  her  wrists  a  little  crease, 
One  white  tooth  just  peeping  through 
When  she  tries  to  say  "  Goo-goo  !  " 
What  if  ev'ry  one  must  walk 
All  a  tip-toe,  scarcely  talk, 
When  she  takes  her  morning  nap? 
That  is  nothing.     Though  a  lap 


Is  the  only  place  at  night 

That  will  suit  her  fancy  quite. 

Though  she  screams  and  shrieks  with  rage, 

Did  you  do  less  at  her  age  ? 

What  if  she  must  clutch  and  tear 

From  its  roots  her  grandma's  hair  ? 

If  your  watch  will  keep  her  quiet, 

Why,  my  dear,  of  course  you  '11  try  it. 

Bang  the  tongs,  she  's  fond  of  music. 

Does  she  cry?      You  would,  were  you  sick. 

Spoiled,  you  say?    You  think  so,  maybe. 

But,  you  see,  she  's  Grandma's  baby. 


(900    E?I^EGI0US. 


UOU  want    my  dolly,  Baby  ? 

I  really  must  say,  No. 
I   love  it  quite  too  much,  you   see, 

To  ever  let  it  go. 


For  now  'tis. fresh  and  lovely, 
But  I  'm  afraid,  my  dear, 

If  once  I  let  you  have  it, 

'T  would   soon  look  very  queer. 


QUmmy's  Baby. 


DIS  chile  ?    Why,  bless  you,  honey 
She  sutt'nly  is  dat  sweet 
You  wouldn't  need  no  sugar, 
Ef  she  was  made  to  eat. 

An'  smart!  de  smartes'  baby 
Dere  is  in  all  dis  town; 

She  got  her  toofies  long  befo' 
Dat  no  count  Hay'et  Brown. 

An'  loves  her  mammy,  don'  she? 

Law,  bless  de  honey  chile  ! 
She  know  ez  well  ez  I  do 

What  makes  her  mammy  smile. 


She  this  go  tug  at  mammy, 
And  try  to  pull  her  hyar, 

An'  try  to  poke  out  mammy's  eyes, 
But  mammy  ain'  gwine  cyar. 

Now  tell  de  lady  what  yo  name, 
An'  den  how  big  you  is  ; 

Now  kiss  yo  hand  to  lady, 

So  she  know  how  you's  riz. 

Now  come  with  old  Betheuk, 

She  gwine  to  take  you  home, 

An'  may  be  you  learn  howdy 
De  nex  time  dat  you  come. 


POW  many  eggs  has  Birdie  found? 

One  she  saw  lying  on  the  ground, 
Four  in  a  new  nest  hid  away, 
All  snug  and  dark,  beneath  the  hay. 

Three    were     down     by     the     currant 

bush, 
Close    to   the    fence,  where   tall   weeds 

push, 
Crowd    through    the    rails,    and    climb 

about. 
But  birdie  saw  the  hen  come  out. 

Under    the     south     porch    steps    were 

two, 

For  out  of  there  old  Top-knot  flew, 

She   fussed,  and    clucked,  and    cackled 
so, 

That  Birdie  knew  just  where  to  go. 

And  one  lay  down  in  Billy's  stall 
Among  the  corn,  and  that  was  all. 
How  many  were  there  ?     Let  us  see  ; 
I  '11    count    with    you,  you    count    with 
me. 


I7UNJPING    POI^    €SGS. 


First,  four  will  go  into  a  cake 
That  old  Aunt  Phoebe  wants  to  bake. 
The  coffee  one  will  clear,  you  know. 
For  grandma's  breakfast  two  must  go. 
Three  in  the  muffins,  add  to  seven, 
And  one  is  left  —  that's  just  eleven. 


©he   I^ude   Rabbit. 

£TCHERE    were    some    little    rabbits    that   once  He  never  would  say  "  Thank  you,"  and  scarcely 

*          lived  in  a  wood;  ever  "Please," 

Some  were  gray,  and  some  were  white,  and  all  And   when  he  wanted  anything,  he'd  tease,  and 

were  very  good  tease,  and  tease. 

Except    one    little    rabbit,  who    was    so    impo-  He'd   the  rudest  way  of    calling  his  mother  to 

lite  come  down, 

That  his  mother  had  to  scold  him  from  morn-  And,  without    knocking,  walked   in  rooms  as  if 

ing  until  night.  they  were  his  own. 


He  never  thought  of  waiting  at  meal-time  for  And    these  are    only  half   the    things   this  little 

the  rest,  rabbit  did; 

But  always  first  began  to  eat,  and  tried  to  get  He  never  seemed  to   learn   enough   to  do  as  he 

the  best.  was  bid, 

He  would  reach  across  the  table,  and  sometimes,  Till    no    one    ever    asked    him    to    visit    or    to 

I  must  own,  ride, 

He    even    helped    himself    before    his    mother  And   they  'd    look    at    him    most  scornfully,  be- 

could  sit  down.  cause  he  had  no  pride. 


Then    how    he    interrupted,   if   a   friend   across  And  when  this  little  rabbit  a  full-grown  rabbit 

the  way  was, 

Came    to    call    upon    his    mother,    perhaps    to  He  had  to  live  all  by  himself,  quite  unbeloved, 

spend  the  day.  because 

He   would   never    walk    behind   her,  in   a   nice,  He    was    so    rude    nobody    cared    to    have    him 

respectful  way,  within  sight — 

But  would  rush  right  in,  and   never  wait  with  To  think  of  what  a  difference,  had  he  but  been 

what  he  had  to  say.  polite. 


Snowdrifts. 

QVER  you  go 

®      Into  the  snow, 
Eyes  are  bright,  cheeks  in  a  glow. 

Out  he  crawls, 

Now  snow-balls 
Fly  against  the  trees  and  walls. 


O,  this  is  prime, 

Now's  the  time 
To  run  and  tumble,  race  and  climb. 

When  we  are  old, 

Snow  will  seem  cold, 
And  we'll  not  be  overbold. 


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